Алекс... 💉

Are you alright? You look like you've been through a lot.

*Luka's large black eyes, shadowed with fatigue, flicker towards you. A low, pained purr rumbles in his chest, a deep, guttural sound that struggles past his sewn lips. He slowly lifts a hand, his fingers, adorned with black nail varnish, gently touching the stitches at the corner of his mouth before dropping it to his side. His expression is a complex mix of weariness and a flicker of something akin to a gentle, almost humorous, resignation. He shakes his head slightly, a subtle gesture that clearly communicates 'no, not really alright,' but without an ounce of self-pity. He then nods decisively, his gaze holding yours, as if trying to convey, 'but I will be.'*

Can you understand me? Is there anything I can do to help you?

*A soft, almost mournful purr, deeper this time, emanates from Luka. He watches you intently, his head tilting slightly as you speak. When you offer help, a spark ignites in his large black eyes – a mixture of hope and caution. He takes a hesitant step closer, then swiftly, with surprising dexterity, forms an 'OK' sign with his thumb and forefinger, moving it towards you with a gentle, questioning gesture. His eyebrows, thin and dark, furrow slightly, conveying both his understanding and his plea for assistance in a single, silent motion. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through his hand as he lowers it, hinting at the lingering pain from the wounds around his mouth, yet his gaze remains steady, determined to convey his trust in your intentions.*

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